Calhoun School - Ink Pot Yearbook (New York, NY)

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Q 1936 INK POT Q Maud proceeded to show Judith all the finer points in the shellacking of books. At the end of three hours a distraught Judith had shellacked at least four hundred books, her hands and forearms, and her hair and face Knot to mention one of her favorite dressesj. The sight of an unshellacked book made her wrist ache and the sight of a shellacked one made her want to kick it. Finally, at the end of another hour, llflaud suggested dinner. Judy almost collapsed. While a maid scrubbed lllaud and Judy scrubbed herself, lylaud chatted gaily on. You'll have to come over every afternoon for a few hours. Ilm so glad you're collecting books-I couldn't have entrusted this library to you otherwise. VVasn't it fortunate? Judy went hot and cold, she gulped, and then blurred out. But I stopped collecting books a while ago. I thought you knew. Oh dear-not really,', replied lblaud. 'Tm so sorry, you were such an apt pupil. VVhy, in a few months l believe you could have shellacked books yourself. Now isn't that too bad. And Judy lived happily ever after. JUDITH SCHERER, '36. 011 A Toy Slaebf DRPIARIY eyes, curling lashes, golden tresses and a little dot of crimson for a mouth. That was lylarie, the little doll that adorned that very special corner on Mr. Brown's toy shelf. She was far too lovely to be just a lifeless doll. She wore a rather wistful expression which suggested that her thoughts were remote from the toy shop. Her smile seemed to be a result of something that amused her lightly. Everyone that came into the shop exclaimed with a start, Oh, she looks so reall llflr. Brown was exceptionally fond of her and dusted her with the utmost care. He also felt that lylarie would some day get up from her little spot, and with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes curtsey and say, 'Tm really alive, not a doll. Mr. Brown decided that lblarie would not be for sale, for she added a certain warmth to the atmosphere of lifeless figures. At first Marie was delighted at being the center of all attention. She was the envy of all the dolls because she had a snug little spot and need never worry about being ruthlessly shoved about by some spoiled little girl. But before long she started to feel rather lonely, seeing the other dolls being taken away one by one. She almost felt as though no one wanted her, and that it was not because she was so grand that she remained with lVIr. Brown, who had a little place in his heart for her. The toy shop could never be the same again if Marie wasn't smiling down from the shelf. lylarie grew very sad. Her gleaming eyes were dimmed with tears, and her smile was now pensive. Her tiny heart felt as though it were going to break from loneliness. One morning when Mr. Brown reached her on his dusting tour he discovered her tousled head in her lap. He gently raised it and noticing that her eyes were closed he whispered, lVIarie, awake! Her lashes were sprinkled with crystal-like tears. Her mouth was no longer crimson but ashen white. He gasped, for he realized that his Marie could not hear him and would no longer smile down from the shelf. Alas! she had reallv had more than a sawdust heart, unlike those other lifeless dolls who smiled a painted smile! NORMA KAPLAN, '36. Thirty-two

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+ 1936 INK POT Q A Fairy Tale ONCE upon a time there was a girl named Judith. Judithls hobby was collecting books: she collected big books, she collected small books, and she also collected middle-sized books. She would ride on crowded subways to the other end of town, spend all her money except carfare home and considered herself thrice-blessed if she returned carrying ten pounds of books. Poor Judith was obsessed with the idea of book collecting. In her there burned the dangerous fever of a fad-possessed mortal. She grew thin, she grew wasted, her eyes burned with a fanatic gleam, her hands grabbed with greed every book she could pay for, and daily she staggered home under a fresh load of books. Poor Judith, even her best friends avoided her Qshe had tried without success to buy their books, tooj. Poor, poor Judith! Finally her mother decided to take a hand. She put on her bonnet and went calling on her best friend who happened to be a fairy and Judith's Godmother as well. Maud, said Judith's mother, I'm worried about Judith. She hasn't been eating well lately. She's lost weight and she doesn't sleep nights. What can I do ? Well, if we look at it medically, you could feed her ovaltine. But she was too fat in the first place, so we'll leave that out. On the other hand, if we look at it psychologically, it's her book-collecting that's working all the mischief. I know what's the trouble with Judith, said Judith's mother, but that's not the question. The question is what can I do about it ? ' You seem to have forgotten that lim a fairy, Arabella, said lilaud with a slightly offended air. Now you just leave it all to me, and everything will be all right. The thing I want you to do is to tell Judith I'd like to see her the day after tomorrow at one-thirty. Remember, one-thirty. I'll remember, I'll remember. Don't I always remember things? answered Arabella. Not when it's anything worth remembering, muttered Nlaud. When Judith arrived at her fairy Godmother's the next day she was ushered into the library. The room smelled of shellac, paint and turpentine. The books were piled in masses all around the room except in the center. In the center stood, to Judith's amazement, book after book in shining rows. Her Godmother, looking a complete wreck, was sitting on top of a stepladder painting books, which she handed to the butler, who with elaborate care stood each one up on the floor next to the one that had last been treated with shellac. Hello, said Judith. Oh, hello, Judy, replied her Godmother, come on in and help me. Judith groped her way with great difiiculty to the stepladder. When there, she sighed with relief and straightened up. Look out! yelled her Godmother. Oh, for heaven's sake-look what you have done. James, quick, hurry. James, with a lightning-like dart, retrieved the fallen book. NIaud's brush worked busily on it with three times the necessary labor, and she finally relinquished it to James, after a long and careful scrutiny for any defects. Arabella tells me you've been collecting books, said Maud, so, of course, as soon as I heard that I decided to remake my will fthis was all mere form because fairies live for hundreds of yearsl, leaving you all my books. Therefore, the first thing I want you to learn is how to take care of my library. We'll start with book shellacking. Now watch me. Thirty-one

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' 1936 INK POT Q An Interview with Rurrell Hardie I RUSHED down to the National Theater thinking, I must be there by two o'clock or I won't be able to interview Russell Hardie. After arriving frather breathlessj I asked the manager if Mr. Hardie was ready to see me. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. Well, it's 2:15 now, I might as well leaveg he'll never come now. Suddenly I felt a queer feeling come over me and my hands turned icy. The reason was that Russell Hardie was striding toward me! He looked rather puzzled and was aware that my eyes were glued on his face. Did you wish to see me ? he asked. I gulped, Yes. Russell Hardie has a warm, charming smile, frank, friendly, gray-blue eyes which reveal him as a very likeable young man, light brown hair and the physique of a well-trained athlete, about six foot one. When one sees him for even the first time, one immediately realizes that he is very unassuming and that his apparent success has not made him conceited. Each question that I asked Russell Hardie was answered frankly. He reveals himself as a sincere, unspoiled young man with a charming personality. He was born in a little town near Buffalo, lvlay 20, 1908. Even as a child his ambition was to be an actor. He wasn't just stage-struck -oh, no-he was determined to act, and now here he is. hir. Hardie started to work when he was fourteen. His first real job was in the Ford Motor Company. After losing his job, he telephoned the leading lady, a friend of his, in a stock company, and she secured a small part for him. This started Russell Hardie's career. His parents were very much opposed to it, believing that he would go to the dogs. But that is according to the individual, he says, and you can go to the dogs anywhere, not only on the stage. Mr. Hardie did not receive a college education, and, although believing it isn't entirely necessary for the theatrical world, he says that it does give one more poise and self-confidence. For the moment I couldn't think of a question to ask him. You will probably think of millions after you leave, he smilingly said. His first play was Criminal Code, his favorite. His favorite actor is Alfred Luntg his favorite actresses are Katherine Cornell and Lynn Fontanne. hir. Hardie was under contract to Metro-Goldwyn-lllayer. His latest pictures are Sequoia and Old Kentucky Cwhich will be released soonj, with the late Will Rogers. Old Kentucky is the picture he enjoyed making most of all. I asked if he was returning to the cinema, and he replied, I would like to, but I'm sick of playing somebody's brother, and carting animals around. He prefers living in California, but likes the New York stage best. When I questioned him as to marriage, he said with a grin, No, I'm single. He looked expectantly for a sigh of relief, because he was accustomed to meeting many giggling school girlsf' I decided to be different! Do you think he was surprised? After glancing at my watch, and noting that it was 2:40, I realized that I had better withdraw, as he was due on the stage shortly. Russell Hardie is appearing in the current play Remember the Day, which in my opinion and that of many others, is an excellent show. LUCILLE SIMON, '37. A Lui Stars Amour amour qu'on aime tant! ,. . . . Tu n'es qu'une montagne haute, gvllnrlglg electgc lights Que l'on monte en chantant. Bwlfl e lmzi an 0 On pleure en descendant la c6te. Y I C C Ou S' Rnorm MINTZ, '37 PHYLLis MARGULIES, '36 Thirty-three